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this piece hits glass with a sour crack i see something beautiful and conceive it
as a challenge for me to describe in a poem,
like the sapphire, cloud-whittled sky, or the grey lively cricket
making music in the green grass twitching to the wind.
i hear something gorgeous and i must quote it
to the letter, to the pause and inclination--
not just the sentence, or punctuation.
i smell something amazing and i must whisper to myself,
"by god, what is that scent?", and then i must investigate
so that i can weave words about the source, the
sweetly pure sugar, the chemical, briny chlorine.
i taste something wondrous and my tongue
dares me not to write about it, it waltzes
and leaves my neurons tingling; juicy crunch of an apple,
or the nervous, dry tang of a raspberry.
i touch something unique and the sensation is mine,
that's right, the crawling fingers and the
scathing nails are writhing in my word's nets,
all sentenced to poetry.
Mere qualifications"ew, how can people like writing?"
"it's so boring, it's not suppose to be fun."
everything you say is a word.
whispered from your lungs,
and our earth is based on communication.
one of the best ways to portray this
is through writing.
it's get-to-the-point, it's detailed, developed,
it's cut-to-the-chase, that car chase that's so interesting
between writer and reader, author and publisher.
it's entertaining and fantastic,
emotional and elastic.
i bet you used to listen to bedtime stories.
those were written, too.
one day, because i care
about communication, and written word,
my college essay will kick yours right out the door--
my resume, my application, they'll enlist inspiration
rather than refutation,
and people will listen to my pen as it spews specialization,
we like writing because it doesn't just get us somewhere,
it shoos us out of pain and anger and rage,
helping us to see the reality that is:
everyone is an infinite possibility,
if only they'd pick up a pen
The American DreamLife, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,
The first two are guaranteed, while the third is just a pursuit,
Never to be attained, because when capitalism
Creates winners and losers,
Both complain anyway.
It's the human condition:
Our low self-esteem
Raging against our Patriotic seams,
A constant fluctuation in our nation as alliteration analyzes the air from my lips,
And rhyming weaves rhythm into our delusion and confusion,
Because something says you can't understand what I'm saying anyway,
Generation of apathy and technology;
But you won't put down your phones and listen to me.
My words are just words, nothing important,
Not quite clear, like our country's future and the world economy.
The blank stares, the dead eyes, glazed over and in disguise
Hiding your passion, hiding the desire to fix, to break
To forgive and forsake our mistakes.
Opposites attract, you see, and our American ways
Are as diverse as the creatur
Mixed ThroughoutCurl with me
Begin with me
Start and finish with me;
We can become one,
We will become one;
I am yours, you are mine,
Why not combine
Together in an endless dance
And with my lips
Begin this trance.
CorruptDon't be fooled by my disguise,
I am a blaze.
You are the sinner to a violent priest
A sight before my sorry eyes.
I will not ravage you,
I will take your confessions
And burn them before you.
Your devil will laugh maniacally at the irony,
That I used fire to destroy him,
But truly I am an ultimate authority;
A man in a world full of devils
Curing a sickness spread
Watching as humans become undead.
Living yet not breathing, eyes open, but unseeing,
Where do they walk each day with no purpose in their hearts?
Let me tell you,
There is no one they are better than,
And that will be the thing to destroy them.
Who walks in a world with no compassion for those around them?
Those who have borne the most ultimate sin
The sin of creating sin,
And they are evil men
With good intention.
incenseMY MUSE IS DRY
LIKE THE DESERT SUN!
I scream out in anger at the elements,
I'm surrounded by burning animals and dying plants,
Rain-luster-lacking ground and sand that angers the very earth!
Wind propels even the weakest here, you will never survive
Because even the sandsnake leaves no trail!
You cannot follow the animals for the water, they are on fire,
It scorches in their blood, the very essence of their spirit
MY MUSE IS DRY
LIKE THE DESERT SUN!
Dead words spill off my tongue as the last canteen
Falls from my fingertips,
And blood leaks from my cracked lips,
Grit cracks in my teeth and my face rots in the mask
I hide underneath!
My legs are broken, but not in bone. They are shattered in will,
As is my soul, as is my wrinkled dehydrated mind,
And it reminds me of this barren place in which I was left behind.
MY MUSE IS DRY
LIKE THE DESERT SUN
And I only long for rain.
Furysnow encapped mountains
breathing ocean air,
letting storms swim across shores
as the treetops rattle, and
the hill and valleys shake;
and thunder growls,
and it strikes the ground;
black night burns in firelight
and the humans weep;
in envy at its power.
patch up the misfitthank you for keeping me
safer than i was--
i am a bit of a bird
flying too high sometimes,
or diving in too deep.
but you always help me out of the depths
in all honesty, i need you more than i thought.
hopefully our story
will have one of those
only without all the fancy stuff.
just love is good enough.
you gave me arms that i could hide in
eyes i could drown in
and never asked anything in return.
yet my heart asked me something--
why are people afraid of love?
i suppose it's the whole
"too good to be true" thing,
and i get that.
but love isn't games
and fake hate, jealousy
it's the one thing Hollywood can sometimes get right.
it's lights at an amusement park,
it's steamy hot forests and
it's playing guitar in the basement,
and looking at fireflies.
sometimes it's even fights
that could be solved
if we were next to each other.
it's late nights up thinking,
missing and yearning,
it's 'overly attached couple'
white lips and red nosesswift is the bird,
fleet is the eye
and faster the decent of night--
speedily is your arrival,
slowly is your departure
and we swell with regret--
sinuously is the snake's,
gracefully is the wolf's
and lustfully is the mind's--
quickly moves the heart,
rhythmically beats the soul
and warmly, time stops--
thankful are your eyes,
open are your arms
and beautifully, autumn falls--
cold are the winters,
shivering are the snows
and yet, love is strong.
Keep in Touch!